


Daylights, Sunsets; Midnights, Cups of Coffee

by saisei



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Jewelry, M/M, World of Ruin (Final Fantasy), World of Ruin Big Bang (Final Fantasy XV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29920455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: If Dino was going to fall in love – which for the record, he wasn't planning on, ever – the last   person he'd choose would be the Lucian Royal Advisor. He'd been doing the journalism gig for ten years now, so he had a good sense for how history played out, if he did say so himself. Whatever fate Noctis Lucis Caelum was heading for – marriage or war or something worse – Dino knew Ignis would follow him. Die for him, maybe.He liked being around Ignis, but when he was gone... It'd be nuts to waste time missing him, right?
Relationships: Dino Ghiranze/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15
Collections: World of Ruin Big Bang





	1. Daylights, Sunsets

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many thanks
> 
> To Crow, my artist, for the amazing artwork. ♥ ♥ Go check out their work on https://twitter.com/crowrynart, https://crowrryn.tumblr.com/, and @AO3 as wanderryn.
> 
> To egelantier, for betaing this fic that did *not* turn out to be the 3000 words I intended.
> 
> To the WoRBB mods and community for support and encouragement through the year that was 2020.

Dino could tell Ignis was wary of him from the start. Made sense, seeing as Prince Noctis' life was in his hands. Plus Dino was kinda-sorta blackmailing the Lucian royal right from the start, though he thought of his requests as a test. What with Insomnia being closed off to people from the occupied territories, the only places he could sell a story now were Lestallum and Altissia, and people mostly had one question about the Crown City heir: whether the kid was good enough to marry the Oracle.

Ignis was a bonus, and Dino's first instinct was to blackmail him, too. He blamed his Accordian upbringing – where a relationship without a woman in it was considered an insult to the vengeful Sea Goddess – but he'd written enough gossip columns to know Insomnia aristocracy also frowned on relationships between men. Yet there Ignis stood, and everything from the tips of his spiked up hair to the rhinestones on his shoes was a not-so-subtle _fuck you_ directed at this oppression. Declaring his preferences right out in the open.

Considering Dino did the same thing – just with off the rack clothes and cheap hair products – he had to respect Ignis' balls for pulling it off. Surely Prince Noctis had no idea his personal advisor was gay... but the Shield to the Future King ought to know. Dino wasn't sure who the blond kid was (his tipsters had said both 'adopted nobody' and 'Prince's classmate', so probably the illegitimate offspring of someone high up), but he had decent fashion sense, he should at least _suspect_.

Dino decided to watch and see how the story developed. He observed them while they were in Galdin Quay, and when they got back after following through on their gentleman's agreement. The only conclusion he could draw, watching from Coctura's as they crossed the long bridge from the parking lot with easy camaraderie, posing for pictures and playing with the stray cat, was that they all knew and accepted Ignis for who he was, which warmed Dino's heart and almost restored the faith in humanity he'd lost as a reporter.

He waved them over when they came up the restaurant steps, and took them down to the ferry stop, which was the closest thing he had to the privacy of an office. Noctis turned over the garnet – a nice chunk of uncut almandine studded with crystals; he'd get some good carbuncles out of it.

He rewarded the Prince with a hot tip about the Oracle coins, which Ignis at least might have understood the nuances of. Noctis seemed to rely on people not caring about minor royalty enough to make trouble for him; the Niflheim Chancellor stayed incognito because according to rumor, people who blabbed about him tended to end up messily dead. But he figured surely the Crownsguard briefing before setting off to Altissia had mentioned the dangers of Izunia. If for no other reason than he'd taken Lady Lunafreya's brother under his wing. Not to mention his crimes against fashion.

He also, because he felt a relationship with the Prince was worth cultivating, promised he'd finish up another garnet bracelet he was working on and give it to Noctis gratis, as a thank-you gift, so he'd know that Dino Ghiranze was someone he could rely on. Trust, even.

In the same spirit of forging a bond of mutual assistance, as he joined them on the walk back to the car he invited Ignis to accompany him to his workshop to see what he was like in his element. Gladio gave Ignis an unsubtle nod, and so they split off into two groups at the end of the bridge, one heading to the pier to indulge in some fishing as the sun went down, while Dino and Ignis headed east, up the hill to the small enclave of shops, workers' dormitories, and rental cottages for holidaymakers who couldn't afford the hotel but weren't desperate enough to camp out.

Ignis made polite small talk, but slipped in a few subtle hints that let Dino know he'd accessed whatever intelligence the Lucian government had on him. Which was fine, Dino was an open book. He'd never even been arrested; he had integrity, and ethics. A fine upstanding citizen, and Ignis was... Well. A fine specimen of manhood himself, and Dino'd have to be blind not to notice.

Ignis waited until they were in the workshop, alone together with the door closed and everything, before asking who Dino really worked for.

That smarted, it really did. "You calling me a spy?"

Ignis just looked at him steadily, waiting.

Dino knew he was... not dumb, but ditzy. It worked for him. Guys underestimated him, and he liked that. But he knew, instinctive, down in his gut, that he couldn't try and pull one over on Ignis. Not if he wanted Prince Noctis' trust and assistance. "Never for the Empire. On the honor of my mother, resting in the Tidemother's embrace." He made the sign of the Hydraean as well, like a schoolboy in the play yard. "Not that you could call it _spying_ so much as passing on information. I know people, I got connections. Here, Lestallum, Accordo, of course. We help each other out."

Ignis nodded. "Indeed."

Which meant nothing except he was waiting for Dino to run his mouth until he got himself into hot water.

He shrugged and spread his hands, inviting Ignis to take a good look. He wasn't hiding anything. "Sure, it wasn't Lucis who asked me to stay here and keep an eye out for ince-Pay octis-Nay, but the guy I got the job from used to be one of you. Works for the First Secretary now, unofficially. Good people." Let Ignis call Weskham up, he wouldn't tell him any different. "Lot of folks doubted you'd make it this far. No offense," he added.

Ignis raised an eyebrow, as if challenging the idea that Dino was significant enough to succeed in offending him. "We'd observed Lady Lunafreya's movements in Lucis, and staying undercover seemed the most expedient way of travel."

_How's that working for you?_ was on the tip of Dino's tongue, but all things considered, he'd rather be doing other things with Ignis than argue.

"Let me show you around," he offered, changing the subject with a clumsiness that he hoped came across as earnest.

To his relief, Ignis seemed amenable, even curious, about his workshop, even though Dino figured the room was self-explanatory. Formerly, the building had been a garage, and there was just one window, to the right of the door, looking out down the hill toward the ocean. His desk was shoved up under it, for his journalistic endeavors, with a radio and typewriter. He had a big wall map where he recorded all the tips he got from hunters about mineral deposits, fabled gemstones, and anything to do with crystals. And then against the wall he had his jewelry-making equipment set up along two tables: the tools he'd inherited from his grandmother, some precision instruments he'd ordered from Insomnia, a couple of visible safes to trick any potential burglars.

He wasn't rolling in dough by any measure, so he figured Ignis wouldn't be shocked that he lived in the single-room apartment upstairs. "I keep my finished work up in the boudoir," he said, heading for the stairs and not checking that Ignis was following. "Like the bracelet for His Highness. They teach you about crystal magic over there in that city of yours?"

Ignis said no, sounding irritated that he had to admit he didn't know everything, and Dino grinned to himself. He unlocked the door and waved Ignis in.

"Pretty simple. Magic collects in crystals, crystals is gemstones a lot of the time, you find yourself a talented jeweler and bam-bling, you've got a pretty little boost of magic helping you along. Maybe not as hot as what kings and princes can do, but – " He spread his hands. "Lemme show you this beauty."

He took down the old baking soda tin from over the sink and twisted the false bottom on and off, a quick sleight of hand that left him cupping a coil of gold with six deep red stones in his palm.

"Go on, give it a try. Garnets are for strength."

"It's not mine," Ignis said in mild rebuke, but he picked the bracelet up with a look of intense scrutiny. Classy guy like him ought to appreciate quality workmanship. Dino'd learned from the best.

"Here," Dino said, and stepped right into Ignis' personal space. "I can fasten it on for you." He let his fingers brush over Ignis' as he relinquished the bracelet, and he held his hand as blatantly as he could while doing the clasp, thumb resting over the inside of his wrist for a moment before he raised his hand up and placed a kiss there, meeting Ignis' gaze with a sly grin. "It looks good on you. And you'd look good on me, if you know what I mean."

Ignis didn't blush, which was a pity, but neither did he yank his hand free or storm out or slap Dino for his impertinence.

He moved his other hand to Ignis' waist, trim and firm under the luxurious softness of his shirt.

"I'm not asking for commitment, you kidding me?" He felt safe saying that: someone like Ignis just didn't make a life with reporters-at-large. "And there's no ulterior motives. You're not the kind of guy who'd spill state secrets in bed, and what, you think I'd blackmail you for your preferences? My keen investigative eye says Prince Noctis already knows."

"Perhaps you've misjudged me," Ignis murmured, looking deeply amused. "Or perhaps I have standards."

Dino let his fingers cling for a moment more to Ignis' hand before letting him go. "That hurts, it really does." He let his irrational disappointment color his words. He chalked it up to having been stuck in this seaside resort for far too long. All the tourists came with their partners and families, and the staff kept to themselves, meaning a long dry spell for this reporter.

"I'm sorry," Ignis said, with a haste that erased his composure. "That was – I didn't mean that."

Ignis was unbearably attractive in his working persona of the hyper-competent bodyguard, but Dino found his moment of awkward wrong-footedness equally alluring, making him seem younger. And possibly more eager.

He reached out and hooked a finger in a belt loop, giving Ignis' hips a playful tug forward. "Make it up to me."

Ignis' lips parted, but it was a moment before he spoke. "What do you have in mind?"

Dino wanted to get him naked and explore every centimeter of his body: discover all his erogenous zones, nibble on his toes, eat him out until he was crying and writhing with pleasure. But Ignis was skittish and probably conscious of his friends keeping track of how long he was gone. Dino hoped he could spin this into a regular deal if he played his cards right, so – this time – he tugged Ignis over to the sofa while telling him how much he wanted Ignis to fuck his mouth.

"No gag reflex," he said, undoing Ignis' belt and zipper with quick fingers before nudging him down. "Plus it's the only guaranteed way to get me to shut up, if that's your thing."

"Might be,” Ignis said, breath hitching as his pants were pushed down, "a useful skill to, ah." Dino curled his fingers in appreciation around the hard length of Ignis' dick, swiping his thumb over the head. "Acquire."

"Absolutely," Dino assured him, and leaned down. He prided himself on his techniques; he was observant and flexible, and Astrals above, Ignis responded like a beautiful instrument breaking into song at the touch of a talented musician. His body was solid muscle, lithe and preternaturally flexible, and he took excellent care of himself and his presentation. Dino admired that; it gave him the rewarding challenge of demonstrating his appreciation through intimacy, sliding his mouth down while his hands traced up the well-defined cuts of Ifrit’s girdle, then over Ignis’ stomach, under his shirt.

He raised up until just the head of Ignis' cock was trapped between his lips, velvet-soft as he explored with his tongue, and then slid his mouth down, feeling Ignis' breathing quicken beneath his hands, reaching up to pinch his nipples – not hard, because he didn’t know if Ignis liked that – and startle him into thrusting upwards.

Dino hummed, taking all he was given, wanting more. Ignis tried to apologize, and this time Dino did tweak his nipples enough to sting. He was irked that Ignis could for one moment think he wasn't here primarily for his own pleasure, or that he'd tolerate anything that he disliked out of some errant sense of duty. He was so turned on that he was hoping he didn't come just from getting Ignis off – what a wasted opportunity that would be.

After a moment, Ignis reached down and slid his fingers into Dino's hair. An advantage to sharing the same styling goals was that he knew how to avoid ruining the work Dino put in every morning; he went right for the hair above his ear, fingers rubbing against his scalp. A real gentleman, he was, not using his grip to shove Dino's head down, just showing his appreciation through those shaky caresses as he grew bolder with his thrusts, taking advantage of what he'd been offered.

If they were going to do this again – and Dino sure hoped they would – he'd have to teach Ignis how to be noisy. Maybe get him to say his name, tell him how good he was. Even just thinking about it made his own dick throb where it was trapped in his trousers. He was so caught up in his imagination that he nearly missed Ignis' frantic tugs on his hair.

"I'm close," Ignis gasped out.

Dino would have grinned if his mouth hadn't been otherwise occupied. He dragged his hands down and curled his fingers around Ignis' hips just as he came. Like a spring had been released, all Ignis' polite tension was banished by the spasms of release: back arching, legs pulling up, hand clenching tight in Dino's hair, even a groan escaping through clenched teeth. Dino drank it all in, breathless and shaking himself, so much that he had to let Ignis' dick slide from his mouth, panting.

As he licked away a trickle of come that had escaped his mouth, Dino watched Ignis' face with a fierce pride, trying to memorize the fevered flush on his cheeks, the sweat-darkened hairline, the way his eyes narrowed behind glasses that sat askew.

As soon as pleasure abated enough for etiquette to kick in, though, Ignis told Dino it was his turn.

"It won't take much," Dino admitted, even as he let Ignis push him back against the sofa armrest and wrest his trousers open. "Probably just your hand."

Ignis gave him a smirk, and ten minutes later Dino was wrecked to the point of begging, frantic from being teased to the edge of orgasm and then brought back, over and over. Ignis was _cruel_ , and Dino told him that. It was taken, apparently, as a compliment.

As the next cycle started, he grabbed at Ignis with clumsy desperation, unable to do more than just choke out _please_ over and over. When he was finally allowed to come, he had a full out-of-body experience, like falling into the sun, every neuron of pleasure firing at once. He floated back down slowly, observing how he'd grabbed hold of Ignis and the tears on his cheeks but not feeling any shame.

He'd needed that, and Ignis had given it to him. He managed to get his slack mouth to produce words, telling Ignis they had to do this again, it'd be criminal not to.

Ignis didn't reply directly, just produced a handkerchief and went about cleaning up with smug ruthlessness.

After he left, somehow looking exactly as he had when he'd arrived, not a hair out of place and the bracelet tucked away in a pocket, Dino couldn't stop thinking of him. He was relieved to find out that Prince Noctis wasn't in a great hurry to head to Altissia right away. That gave him opportunities.

He amped up his workout schedule, so he didn't embarrass himself. He sent Noctis after legendary jewels he got tips about, figuring it was a win-win situation. Experience – and a bit of bling – for his reliable royal pal, and Dino got quality gems and an evening with Ignis if he played his cards right.

If Dino was going to fall in love – which for the record, he wasn't planning on, ever – the last person he'd choose would be the Lucian Royal Advisor. He'd been doing the journalism gig for ten years now, so he had a good sense for how history played out, if he did say so himself. Whatever fate Noctis Lucis Caelum was heading for – marriage or war or something worse – Dino knew Ignis would follow him. Die for him, maybe.

Ignis was a sharp dresser and wicked in bed, as flexible as a gymnast and with nearly inhuman stamina. Over the weeks they had to get to know each other, Dino learned that they shared a passion for coffee and a sense of humor, but they didn't spend much time chatting. He liked being around Ignis, but when he was gone... It'd be nuts to waste time missing him, right? Life was too short.

When a tipster reported that King Noctis had set sail at last for his fairytale wedding to the Oracle in Altissia, Dino wished them all the best. He told himself the regret he felt was because now he needed to find a hunter who'd be just as good at picking up gems for his business.

He heard from Weskham that they'd arrived safely and figured that was that. Chapter closed.


	2. Midnights, Cups of Coffee

Dino was in his workshop starting yet another commission (hunters and their amulets, he'd be rolling in dough if only he didn't feel guilty for taking advantage of the end of the world) when Coctura rang to say a boat was coming in.

"Jay from Bait'n'Tackle says it might be the royal vessel," she added, hanging up before Dino could ask any questions. He tried not to let his curiosity get on her last nerve, but journalistic habits died hard.

In the six months since King Noctis sailed off from Cape Caem, Galdin had been overwhelmed by successive waves of refugees. First from Altissia, which meant Dino got to talk to a lot of sources and piece together a fairly good picture of what had happened, even before he finally got in touch with Weskham. Gods battling in the harbor, the Oracle murdered, the city of his ancestors left a flooded ruin. Then more people, this time from Niflheim with even worse rumors: the nation abandoned to daemons, the Emperor and Chancellor dead at Nox Fleuret's hand in revenge for his sister. For all he tried to avoid the sensationalism that sold tabloids, the bulletins Dino dashed off and sent to Lestallum read like the plots of the worst overblown operas about the fall of Solheim.

By now, most of the refugees had moved on, taken by hunter truck convoys to Lestallum or Hammerhead. The sun was mostly gone, too, rising later and setting earlier every day, until it barely skimmed the horizon, leaving the world to darkness. Galdin Quay rebranded itself as a major port for fishing and ferries, and traded with Lestallum to get fences with daemon-repelling flood lights erected around the town's perimeter in anticipation of marauding daemons. They were bold enough now, with only a sliver of protective sunlight cutting through the Scourge-blackened sky; but the experts all warned that the sun would set permanently any day now.

And in all these months of terror and preparations, there'd been no word about the King. On the one hand, hardly anyone had the time these days to care about minor royalty from yet another kingdom Niflheim had subjugated. On the other... Dino had come to believe that Noctis was the real deal. Maybe their best hope at salvation. And now he was gone. (He'd asked around, subtly of course, to see if Noct had left behind any pregnant girlfriends or bastard children, but apparently he'd been a good kid, which sucked for Eos.)

So _if_ the royal vessel had been sighted, and _if_ the King was on board, then maybe everything was going to be all right. At any rate, Dino'd get the scoop. This reporter didn't sleep on the job.

He'd been using his connections to keep Cotura supplied with the best ingredients available despite rationing and scarcity, and in return she came through for him today: the dock had been roped off to keep the curious public out, but the guards allowed Dino to pass with just a nod. The bench where he used to do business was empty, but gathering dust now that the flood of refugees from Altissia and Niflheim had dried up. Ships were infrequent these days.

Prompto had sent him pictures of the capital-RV Royal Vessel when they'd departed from Cape Caem – not for publication, just a FYI _because we're friends_ , he'd said. So Dino was confident that what he saw was King Regis' personal yacht, even though it looked pretty shabby. But he figured it'd survived Altissia. It might be battered, but it had good bones.

As the yacht neared, Gladio was easy to spot by height alone, and then Dino saw Prompto's chocobo-yellow head moving around the deck, preparing ropes and things. He didn't spy Noctis, but odds were he was taking a royal nap on one of the benches. Dino leaned forward on the railing, squinting into the glare of the spotlights that staved off the darkness. He wouldn't say he'd be heartbroken if Ignis hadn't survived, but just the thought gave him a chill. He liked Ignis, and they had their recurring thing that they indulged in. He'd made an anklet that he wanted Ignis to wear, a new design he was testing that would theoretically give him a better reaction time in battle.

He'd always been accused of being overly optimistic, and he probably was naive, but with all the fantastic tales Ignis had told him of fighting monsters and gods and ghosts and whatever, he'd started assuming Noctis and his companions were invulnerable.

He still couldn't see either Noctis or Ignis, and his nerves forced him to abandon his attempt to look cool and casual. He made his way through the wicket and down to where the yacht was pulling up, two of Cotura's staff waiting to catch the ropes thrown to them. Dino hung back, not wanting to be in the way or get put to work – he had calluses and burns from metalwork and gem-cutting as it was, he didn't need rope burn on top of that – and started taking notes in his head for a news story. He doubted he'd publish it; he refused to let the truth be censored, but this was fate-of-the-world stuff. He didn't want to fuck things up by giving away the King's location to his enemies, or endangering whatever his plan was to bring the sun back and save everyone.

He sure hoped that was the plan.

Gladio was filthy and hard-looking up close. His hair was matted, and he had an unkempt beard. Dino hadn't ever accompanied Noctis out in the field – obviously: he didn't make news, he wrote it – but now he knew how terrifying it was to be threat-assessed by the royal bodyguard. Gladio's eyes were sharp as his gaze flicked over the people on the dock, like anyone who so much as smiled in the wrong way was going to lose their head. Prompto didn't look much better, equally dirty and suspicious, except his beard was both unfashionable and unfortunately scruffy. Both of them wore layers of Niff civilian clothes, not much better than rags.

Once the ramp was in place, Gladio made his way down first, with Prompto next, and followed by someone Dino could only assume was Ignis, given his height and hair color, although everything else about him was wrong.

Dino was struck by a crystal-clear memory of Ignis rising from bed and dressing with meticulous care: brushing his shirt smooth and trapping it with stays, folding the sleeves up just so, making sure the pendant of his necklace settled in the V of his open collar, tweaking the way the hem of his trousers settled over his shoes. He'd felt a visceral kinship in that moment: sure, Ignis outclassed him and wouldn't have given him a second glance in Insomnia, but they shared values that transcended all that. Dino one hundred percent believed that controlling how you presented yourself to the world was its own kind of magic – he knew Coctura thought he was vain and shallow, but how long had it taken her to persuade Prince Noctis to run an errand for her?

Noctis had trusted Dino right from the get-go. Dino wasn't about to discount the impact of how important it'd been to look sharp back then, conveying confidence and trust-worthiness. Sure, he'd done his research and was able to make an offer the Prince couldn't refuse, but Noctis ended up being a business partner. Possibly even a friend, if Dino interpreted their interactions generously.

Point was, Ignis was a man who knew how to make the most of his appearance.

The man who followed Prompto down the ramp to the dock, one hand clamped tight on Prompto's shoulder, didn't even move the way Ignis did, that feline grace which promised he took care of his body like a professional athlete. Dino had never seen Ignis unsure, and watching him stumble now felt like an icy dagger right through his heart.

Ignis' clothes fit badly, and he had on dark glasses that didn't do that great a job at hiding the red scars all over his face. He looked like he was barely holding it together; they all did.

Dino's feet moved faster than his brain, launching him forward toward Gladio. He opened his mouth to ask where King Noctis was, but Gladio looked primed for violence.

"I've got room at my workshop," Dino blurted out instead, improvising, raising his hands in a show that he meant no offense. "And a shower. Not real high-class, but the accommodation here's full, if you know what I mean." Lingering refugees, hunters, people from abandoned towns nearby – lots of prying eyes. He'd have to work hard to keep rumors from flying, especially speculation about why the Lucian King hadn't returned.

"Yeah," Gladio said. He sounded exhausted, like he didn't trust himself to make decisions but, well, someone had to. After a moment he added, "Thanks."

Dino wasn't too sure Gladio recalled who he was, but he didn't take it personal. He made it worth the dockhands' while to take them across the bay in one of the rowboats hotel employees used to get to work from the dormitories; he didn't want his guests to have to parade through the restaurant and lounge, sparking dangerous curiosity. Ignis was sick over the side of the boat twice just in the ten minutes it took to row to the beach, and Dino got a good look at his scarred eyes when Prompto tried to curb his nausea with a wet cloth pressed to his forehead.

He tried not to think how much worse the trip over the open sea must have been.

Even though he knew he was going to ask all the questions and get the scoop of his lifetime just as soon as he had them ensnared by his hospitality, for once in his life he almost didn't want to know. Terrible things had happened to Altissia. Before they lost touch, Weskham had tipped him off that Noctis had been headed into Gralea, but now the scourge was going wild and daemons were taking over all of Eos. Dino could admit to himself that he was scared to learn just how badly they were fucked without the King who was their one hope of survival.

Fortunately, sorting out their domestic arrangements was time-consuming. Dino introduced his houseguests to the bathroom first – telling them to use all the clean towels, razors, toothpaste, and soap they needed – and left them there with a stack of his undershirts and workout pants. His parting instructions were to save the shower water for laundry. He figured once they were clean they'd realize how bad their clothes stank. While they were spiffing themselves up, he threw together a quick meal of pasta with a shellfish-vegetable sauce and made a salad, wondering how long it'd been since they'd had fresh food.

As he suspected, once they'd shoveled the food in like they'd been starving, digestion knocked them out cold. Prompto conked out first, after scraping his bowl clean. He said he needed a minute and curled up on the sofa. He was sound asleep by the time Dino got back from fetching a blanket from the bedroom, and Gladio had produced – by magic, Dino figured, the same way he'd conjured up pants that fit – a pile of grubby sleeping bags, unrolling and stacking them to make a nest of sorts on the floor.

"Sorry bout the smell," Gladio said. He was swaying a bit, and with his face clean-shaven Dino could see how gaunt he was. "Take care of it tomorrow. C'mon, Iggy."

"He can stay with me," Dino countered, on instinct. Probably not his brightest move. He didn't know if Gladio knew about Ignis, or about Ignis and him. Or if Ignis was with Gladio or someone else now. Gladio sure glared at him like he was trying to force his disapproval straight into Dino's brain.

But Ignis, the only one of them who'd offered to clean the dishes (Dino'd turned him down flat; his grandmother had been very clear about how guests were to be treated), nodded and slid off his stool at the kitchen counter. He put both hands along the edge, like he was trying to get his balance... or more likely his bearings. Call up a picture in his head with the bathroom straight ahead, the door to the stairs to his right and the hallway next to that, sofa behind him.

Dino didn't know what was appropriate from him, if he should take Ignis' hand or what. The longer he did nothing, the more heavily judgmental Gladio's stare grew. But Ignis, oblivious to this visual drama, turned on his heel and took two steps in a straight line (more or less) toward the bedroom door.

"I got new curtains," Dino went on. Inane, but he had to needle Gladio, make it clear that Ignis wasn't a stranger here. Ignis corrected his course minutely, away from the wall and toward Dino's voice, and Gladio's gaze flicked between them. He shook his head at Dino once, a slow ominous warning, before going back to making his own bed on the floor. "We put up the new Lestallum lights all over. You guys hear about them? They keep the daemons away, so it's safe here." He reached out and put a hand on Ignis' shoulder.

Ignis flinched at the touch he hadn't seen coming, and Dino rubbed his shoulder in apology as he escorted Ignis the few steps into his room and shut the door. The curtains didn't block out all the light, but he guessed Ignis wouldn't have to get used to the glow like he had.

"Everything's the same," he said. "Bed, chair, dresser. Rug on the floor." Ignis took a step toward him and reached out. Something about how much he trusted Dino was enough to put a lump in the throat of even the most hardened newsman; he couldn't say that, obviously, so instead he grasped Ignis' hand and pulled him into a side hug, blurting out that he was so glad Ignis was alive. All of them. (Except Noctis, perhaps, but that was a question for the morning.) "You're a sight for sore eyes," he went on, only recalling after the words were hanging there in the air what a terrible thing that was to say.

"I wish I could say the same," Ignis said. He probably meant it as a joke, but he didn't have the energy for proper delivery.

Dino was desperate to know what happened, but he knew Ignis would hate him if he pushed for answers now. He'd hate himself.

So instead he led Ignis to bed, watching him reach out and find the windowsill, then set his folded glasses there, dark lenses glittering; slip under the quilt, taking care to only occupy half the pillow; and turn his face toward the wall. Dino hung his clothes on the chair and got in next to him, the bed too small for two tall people, but what was he gonna do?

After a moment, Ignis started fussing with his still damp hair, trying to settle but thwarted, apparently. Finally he murmured, "I can't have anything on my face." He sounded begrudging, as if he resented being forced to make that admission.

It made a sickening amount of sense, though. "A man's got a right to a foible or two." Dino got up and crossed the room to rummage in his top drawer. "In all confidence, I'm not entirely foible-less myself." He found what he was looking for – an amenity headband from the Leville – and brought it back, handing it to Ignis as he slid back into bed. "There. Quality Altissian workmanship. Attention to detail, fits right, not too tight. Plus I guarantee it cuts down on styling time in the morning."

Ignis accepted it with the same sullen grouchiness, but after a moment pulled it on, the dark band holding his still-damp hair back, out of his eyes and away from his scars. Dino didn't expect effusive praise, but he was surprised when Ignis reached out to feel for his arm, finding it and tugging so Dino turned on his side, his stomach pressing snug against Ignis' back. Before the world fell apart he'd never have thought of Ignis as being the little spoon type, and who knew, maybe this was a new thing. But it gave Dino all kinds of feelings, right in the gut, and he held on, keeping Ignis safe until finally his breathing slowed and he went heavy and limp with sleep.

*

The days after the Crownsguard's return were busy, and Dino discovered that he didn't even need to be nosy and ask prying questions, so long as he kept his ears open. Gladio used his phone and Dino's radio to get in touch with his boss up in Lestallum, who yelled at him for close on an hour, while Prompto wandered around chattering continually, like a nervous tic. Dino wasn't too bugged by his noise, though, especially since most of it was directed at Ignis: giving him directions, letting him know what was going on, talking about what things looked like.

Ignis made himself useful around the place, though more like _maid_ himself useful. He'd stolen the Emperor's personal supply of coffee (a ballsy move Dino admired and appreciated), and after a ritual caffeination in the morning he kept himself busy getting all of their clothes clean, mended, and pressed, sharpening weapon blades, scrubbing down camping equipment. He and Prompto spent a couple of days just getting the funk out of the sleeping bags and a well-patched tent – not so easy when there wasn't any sun to dry things out and give them that nice fresh smell. Even once the sleeping bags had passed his strict requirements for cleanliness, he still spent his nights with Dino, which was both arousing and confusing in equal measure.

From what Dino gathered, Noctis had been tricked into entering the Crystal that the Emperor had stolen from the Citadel in Insomnia. They'd spent their first few months working with mercenaries to try and transport the Crystal back to Lucius, in the process having to fly – and land – the Zegnautus megafortress while battling off waves of daemons.

But the Crystal had disappeared one night, perhaps spirited away by the gods, Gladio wasn't sure. They'd returned to Gralea to search for it but found no trace, and then had made their way to Neider Port, where Weskham was waiting to hand over the Royal Vessel.

Dino weighed admitting to his eavesdropping versus his gnawing curiosity, and finally gave in. "You know," he said to Gladio, one afternoon when he'd been drafted to assist unloading supplies from the king's yacht before putting it in secret storage, "Weskham and I go back quite a ways. I'm glad he made it through everything that went down. I worried."

"Lucians aren't exactly popular in Altissia now." Gladio dropped a heavy crate in Dino's arms. "Careful, those are the Imperial jewels. Tiaras and stuff. He's gone to work with our allies in Tenebrae."

Dino clung to the crate so tightly he could feel his arm muscles protesting. "Commodore Highwind."

Gladio gave him a quick grin that was mostly a threatening baring of teeth. "She took half the loot, so blame her if the good stuff is gone. And don't go blabbing any of this to the media."

Dino was stung by the insult to his integrity, but telling Gladio so just resulted in a dismissive roll of his eyes and instructions to load the crate on the rowboat they'd hired.

A week after that, Dino was bracing himself to mention that they'd just about eaten through his emergency stockpile of canned and dried goods and that maybe it was time they started making a long-term plan.

But Gladio started the conversation first, that night after dinner (and after he'd helped himself to seconds, twice).

"We'll be getting out of your hair soon," he said. "Cor's gonna swing by on his way back from Hammerhead in a couple of days."

Dino nodded and leaned forward. The picture he'd pieced together was that Gladio and Prompto were making plans that didn't include Ignis. He wasn't sure if they were being cruel on purpose, or if they were too dead tired to sugar-coat the truth. Ignis would hold them back in a fight, get in the way, and maybe end up dead. They wanted him safe in Lestallum with Gladio's kid sister taking care of him. Sidelined. And Ignis was, very quietly, furious about this. He'd stalk down to the beach and practice stabbing stuff, or do exercises until his skin gleamed with sweat under the floodlights, like fine art cast in bronze.

Aside from being a huge turn on, Dino saw this disconnect in their goals as... an opportunity.

"Sounds good," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Getting back into the fight, catching up. We'll have to keep in touch. I'm always here to help out a friend in need, you know?" He took a breath and looked right at Gladio, trying to channel his terrifying Aunt Vini. "Be nice if you let me know what's going on. What's going to happen."

Prompto's eyes darted between them, but Gladio just cracked his neck and said _Fuck if I know._

"Gladio." Ignis' eyes might not be seeing much these days, but he still commanded a ferocious glare.

"Iggy." Gladio sucked in a breath and blew it out. "Noct went into the Crystal, which disappeared to wherever the gods live. Maybe. He's coming back – he better, or I'll kick his ass – but we have to make sure not to die or get turned into daemons before then."

"We looked for him everywhere," Prompto said, his knees so jumpy his heels tapped against the floor. "Or some way to bring him back, anyway. Coming here was our last hope."

"Angelgard," Ignis filled in. "But not even the Royal Vessel could penetrate the magical protections around the island."

Dino let his expression convey to Gladio that he was an idiot. "The gods smite people every year for that, lightning bolts, rogue waves, all kinds of stuff. We've got signs all over the place." He bit his tongue from mentioning Altissia's destruction, but he wasn't above sniping, "You think King Noctis wants to show up and find his buddies all... smitten?"

"Yeah," Gladio drawled, very dry. "Wouldn't want to be smitten." He gave Prompto a sidelong look, rolling his shoulders back. "We'll need to go over our provisions, sell off some stuff. Give you your clothes back."

Dino was going to miss seeing Prompto swimming in his shirts, and Gladio threatening to shred them with his mighty torso. Not to mention the primal possessive thrill of seeing Ignis in his trousers. "All you need to do is ask," Dino said. "What's mine is yours. Though I wouldn't turn down any more tiara contributions you'd care to make to the food budget."

"Why's everyone looking at me?" Gladio complained, and the conversation veered off into banter and teasing.

Dino put up with one more night of cuddling, but the next day he waited til Ignis was alone and then sidled up for a heart-to-heart.

"Hey," he said, breezy, sliding onto the stool next to Ignis at the kitchen counter, while Ignis was absorbed in buffing a dagger to a lethal shine. He tried to sound like he didn't find the dagger thing intimidatingly sexy, but probably failed. "I got a proposition for you."

After a moment, Ignis' hands stilled as he turned to look in Dino's direction and raised an eyebrow. "Better than an imposition, I suppose." He sounded dubious, though.

"How's about you stay here and work with me after the others leave?" Dino leaned toward him, elbow on the counter, eager to explain his scheme. "I got orders pouring in for protective amulets, rings, all kinds of stuff. You know the deal. Thing is, hunters these days don't got the time to spare to do errands for me, hunting down gems and crystals. I get it, but – I'm a city boy, something'd snap me up if I went out there alone. I need a bodyguard."

"I had a witch examine your work once," Ignis said, testing the blade with his finger and miraculously not slicing his finger off. "The magical quality is, apparently, as good as you claim."

Dino slapped a hand over his heart theatrically, and didn't miss the way Ignis' mouth twitched as he repressed a smirk. "That smarts, it really does. You didn't trust me?"

"Not as far as I can throw you," Ignis said, and went right back to his painstaking work. But Dino knew he didn't mean it. He was considering the offer, after all.

"It's a win-win deal, in my professional opinion," he went on, warming up now that he had the sense Ignis was amenable. "I get the stones to make my high-quality, witch-approved protective jewelry for the discerning hunter, and you get to kill stuff and enjoy my charming company."

"I can't see," Ignis said, words abrupt and sharp as the steel in his hands, like a reprimand. No one talked about his injuries aside from vaguely hinting he needed to stay out of the action, safe at home, knitting or whatever retired hunters did. "Nothing more than a fog of light and dark."

"No one's going to be able to see anything more than dark in a few months, anyway," Dino said, and then bit his tongue. His grandmother used to always tell him he had no tact. Probably he was supposed to be sympathetic. "I tell you yet I'm sorry that happened to you? Don't think I did. I like you, and... it's a tragedy."

Dino hated talking about his feelings; it made him feel naked and vulnerable. Nothing made him as uncomfortable as looking inside himself. He just wanted to face forward, inner eyes on the horizon, chasing after his goals. He didn't want to be deep or philosophical. Shallow worked for him just fine.

"A victory," Ignis corrected. "No one else was there to protect Noct. I did what I could, and I'd do it again without hesitation if necessary."

"See now," Dino said, heart all aflutter at Ignis' bravery and loyalty, "a guy like you don't deserve being sidelined to babysit someone's kid sister." That was putting a diplomatic spin on things: the gist of what Dino understood was that the sister was meant to be babysitting Ignis.

"I'll ask Prompto if he'd mind teaching you how to shoot," Ignis said abruptly, after a moment of squinting suspiciously in Dino's direction. "You'll need to have some degree of self-protection."

Dino didn't know the first things about camping or cooking, either. But he was sure, he said breezily, that Ignis was more than capable of taking care of him. Especially since it was all for a good cause, right?

Ignis insisted his cooperation – or lack thereof – would depend on Dino being able to hit the broad side of a barn, and not kill either of them in the process. Prompto was a better teacher than that, plus Dino had excellent hand-eye coordination. After a day of practice, he was even able to hit some moving targets, like a rolling tire or a bag tossed up in the air, because while Prompto was a real sweetheart of a person, he could be a hardass when considering lives would be at stake. When he wasn't correcting every last little thing about how Dino handled or cleaned his gun, he fidgeted like a kid trying to work up the nerve to ask his parents for a puppy.

Finally, after their second intense practice down on the beach, Prompto blurted out, "Ignis is a good guy."

Dino was all set to reply that this was old news to him, but he was momentarily distracted, checking to make sure Prompto didn't have a shovel and wasn't going to bury him up to his neck in the sand as the tide came in.

But instead Prompto continued, wrapping his arms around his chest, "He's allergic to being taken care of, though. I mean... I don't know what fantasy world Gladio lives in where he thinks Ignis would ever stay home and let other people do the hard work. He doesn't want Noct to come back and have to tell him Ignis died, I guess." Prompto scuffed his boots in the sand, and Dino winced for the leather. "I think you're good for him, is what I'm saying."

Well, that stung. "Cause you think I don't take care of him?"

Prompto snorted. "Cause he lets you, for some reason. Try not to die. He'd miss you." He fidgeted a bit with the gun he was holding, just enough to make Dino nervous. "Daemons are tricky," Prompto warned at last. "They don't go down easy, and more of them can come right up out of the ground at any time."

Dino's instincts told him to act like that wasn't a big deal, like this reporter didn't back down from anything, not angry celebrities, crooked politicians, or daemons of the Scourge. But the idea of being close enough to a daemon to shoot it would have given him gray hair, if all his work with magic hadn't taken care of that already, back when he was in his twenties.

He swallowed down his fear, and told Prompto to teach him what he needed to know,

Down the beach, Gladio was attacking Ignis with swords, and because sound carried near water, Dino could hear him yelling at Ignis for not being fast enough and good enough. Dino took a deep breath and refocused on Prompto's lesson. It'd be kind of sexy to save someone's life with his skills, he supposed. (By 'someone' he meant Ignis, but that was too real, and thinking about what was out there hiding in the darkness terrified the crap out of him. He shot a piece of driftwood and told himself he felt better.)

*

On the morning of Prompto and Gladio's departure – Dino guessed it was morning, even though the sky stayed dark – Ignis pulled back like the tide, hiding his emotions away behind brisk coffee-fueled efficiency.

This backfired on him, though: he was doing so much work, even making up sandwiches for them to eat in the car, that Gladio had enough free time to box him into the kitchen and hassle him. (Dino was ostensibly checking the common areas to make sure nothing got left behind, but mostly he was eavesdropping.)

"You sure?" Gladio asked. He sounded as gruff as usual, but Dino was trained to listen for the subtle stuff, like how Gladio sounded kind of lost, less assured than when he was being a professional badass. Ignis' expression softened a bit at this personal appeal, and he put the bread down and reached out, hand unwavering as it reached into the darkness until his fingers found Gladio's arm, which he gave a squeeze and let go.

"I prefer not to face people just yet. I need time," Ignis said.

Dino went back to checking behind the sofa cushions, not sure if he should be honored or offended that apparently he didn't count as _people_ to Ignis. He found an Oracle coin and wondered if flipping it counted as sacrilege; probably. He did anyway and got heads for honored, which was nice. He figured he could trust Lady Lunafreya about that.

Cor showed up just before noon – if it still counted as that, without the sun – and was eager to get right back on the road. He unfolded himself from his vehicle and stretched, looking around at everything with an air of impatient disapproval. Dino knew who he'd been to King Regis, at least according to Weskham, and Prompto had told him a somewhat garbled explanation of why he was called The Immortal. Dino hadn't expected him to be a hugger, but he skipped over any friendly greetings at all and instead grilled Ignis about his injuries and abilities like he'd gotten hurt on purpose just to shirk his duties... and as if Ignis didn't count for anything if he couldn't do his job.

Dino'd made Gladio and Prompto bracelets, combining stones he'd popped out of the Imperial loot to give boosts to their speed and stamina and a certain degree of protection. He had been going to offer to make one for Cor as well and send it to Lestallum when he could, but he decided not to. Petty, he supposed, but he didn't especially like Cor. He assumed the feeling was mutual, seeing as Cor'd given him a brief glance and then acted like he was invisible, not even worth glaring at.

When they'd all piled into the car, taking the sandwiches and a few flasks of hot tea with them, Dino stood next to Ignis to wave, at least until the car was halfway up the hill. Then he dropped his hand and put his arm around Ignis' waist instead, pulling him in so they were hip to hip watching as the lights grew further away and then out of sight, the car racing into the darkness.

Dino felt like he needed to do something for Ignis, some grand gesture. After all, he'd lost King Noctis and now his fellow Crownsguard had left him behind because he couldn't see. He had to be feeling pretty low, even if he'd never admit to it.

But everything he knew Ignis wanted wasn't in Dino's power to give or even offer; so he found himself doing the same small things he'd been doing. Catching Ignis up with the gossip and news as they walked back to the workshop, making him sit down and eat his own lunch seeing as he'd been working nonstop all morning, only letting him dry but not wash the dishes. His apartment had always felt just the right size for one person, but he'd gotten used to having the others underfoot. Now he found himself gravitating toward Ignis, always on the edge of his personal space, reaching out to touch him and getting bolder the more receptive Ignis seemed.

He supposed it was like the embarrassing thrill horny teenagers felt when their parents were away for the day, but suddenly all he could think of was sex.

Ignis wasn't oblivious, of course, and asked point-blank what brought this on.

Dino, one hand in the back pocket of Ignis' trousers, could only be honest. "I don't have to worry about thin walls now."

Ignis huffed. "You are aware that Gladio thought we were just keeping our activities especially quiet?"

Dino's cheeks went hot. "And I'm still alive?" Ignis wasn't a smirker, but the faint curve to his lips was enough to give him away. "You didn't disabuse him of his misunderstanding."

Ignis shrugged, unrepentant. "Why would I?"

Dino reached up to cup Ignis' cheek in his hand. He had the suspicion Ignis preferred Gladio's assumption to him finding out that he'd turned to Dino for comfort instead, which was both sad and endearingly poignant.

"Come here." He brushed his thumb over Ignis' lips until they parted and then leaning in for a kiss as Ignis turned toward him.

He suspected it was the first time he'd kissed Ignis, and assumed that was why he felt like he'd just stepped off a precipice, like The Fool in fortune-telling cards. When he pulled away, surprisingly breathless, he said, "I'm going to make you feel so good, sweetheart, you're going to wish you'd told me we could have been doing this for a whole week."

"Prove it," Ignis countered.

Yeah. Dino was all over that.

He hadn't had much time to think about sex in between dealing with refugees, his new business exploding into backlogged orders, and desperately trying to keep his little town safe before the world ended in darkness. But now, all of a sudden, sex became the prelude and the coda and the background music of his waking hours.

Ignis had never really had any strong preferences for specific acts or positions, though he'd had a natural inclination to show off his stamina, flexibility, and musculature – which Dino appreciated, who wouldn't? It was clear that he didn't want to allow any of whatever had happened to him to change that, but he'd picked up some definite foibles. Nothing on his face, and definitely nothing face-down. No holding him down; the first time Dino got carried away and pinned Ignis' wrist to the mattress he found himself midair, blinking in surprised confusion for a moment before his back hit the wall.

(Ignis was beside himself with contrition; Dino demanded he kiss his bruises better.)

Dino'd never had a regular partner long enough to make the investment in sorting out kinks, but he figured in this case Ignis was worth the effort. He offered up some of his own treasured fantasies in return for Ignis' honestly, and confessed that no, he'd never actually tried them in real life, but you know. The nights were long.

When they weren't sharing some healthy sexual exploration, they were preparing for their first jewel quest. Dino arranged to borrow Coctura's car (he had to trade some of Ignis' precious Imperial coffee to seal the deal) and bought everything on the list of provisions Ignis drew up. He even borrowed a tent from Jay at Bait'n'Tackle and persuaded him to explain how to build it properly.

Ignis insisted on using his own map, but Dino didn't have time to feel offended on behalf of Accordian cartographers because Ignis dragged him off to bed.

Dino did the same after presenting Ignis with all the bling he expected him to wear. He'd put a lot of thought into making the charms, amulets, bracelets, and anklets wearable without distracting; the only distraction he wanted Ignis to experience was him and his many sexual charms. Ignis ended up agreeing to wear everything offered, provided Dino sewed the pieces to his clothes so they didn't shift around.

Ignis was full of little helpful tips that Dino didn't like thinking about too hard. "Don't bring anything scented," he said. "Daemons are attracted by colognes, and even shampoo." And, "If I tell you to get down, drop to the ground and stay there."

Dino's overactive imagination presented him with a scenario where his favorite aftershave brought the daemons down on them, and then he didn't lie down fast enough and got stabbed by flying daggers.

"You worry about me," he said, to banish the vision of that ignoble death. He slipped inside Ignis' defenses and squeezed his biceps; just to let Ignis know where he was, no ulterior motives.

Ignis reached up to tug at Dino's hair – he was getting too good at that, for someone who couldn't see – but Dino wouldn't be dislodged. "Why shouldn't I?"

"You'd miss me," Dino pushed. He trailed his fingers down Ignis' arm appreciatively, let their fingers clasp for a moment, and then succumbed to the temptation of Ignis' undone shirt to slide his hand under.

"Ought I not to?" And now Ignis was clearly defensive.

Dino snorted and leaned in to nip at Ignis' earlobe. He liked that, he'd discovered.

"I like it," he said. "I'm a sucker for sweet talk."

"I'll take that under advisement," Ignis said dryly, so of course Dino had to retort _advise this_ and dragged him off to the bedroom.

But on the evening of their departure, Ignis asked if he could help Dino prepare dinner, and as they were dicing up the vegetables Ignis said, "I'm hoping you'll be the one to help me change fate." He set the knife down and carefully scooped the potato into the colander. "That's my dearest wish."

Dino wanted more than anything to be that person, but didn't know how to reply. He felt like he was staring into the blinding light of honesty; Ignis didn't deserve any less than a completely truthful reply. "I'll do what I can," he said.

"I rely on you," Ignis said, and then broke the spell himself, asking where the beans were, and whether the water was boiling yet. (Dino was ninety-nine percent sure that he could hear the water bubbling, but he was glad of the reprieve anyway.)

In the morning, once they were on the road, Ignis advised driving as fast as possible. "Chocobo's survival is due to their speed at outrunning danger," he added. "Don't wreck the vehicle, of course."

"I learned to drive on these roads," Dino protested, indignant. "Outrunning airships. I got trouble with stop lights and signs, not with putting the pedal to the metal."

Ignis huffed and leaned back in his seat. "Delightful."

Dino grinned and accelerated into the darkness. He'd made sure Ignis was wearing rose quartz and sapphire, which sailors swore by as a charm to ward off sea-sickness. He wanted Ignis to appreciate his skill behind the wheel without any queasiness; sure, Dino had never been the chauffeur for royalty, but he bet he could have been, if Noct had just stuck around long enough. At least now he got to show off for Ignis.

*

Dino's network of hunters and tipsters had alerted him to five potential gem sites, and they'd chosen this particular one because it was located just a couple of kilometers from Killiam Haven, south of Fociaugh Hollow but probably, Dino figured, part of the same cave system. Reports indicated, to no one's surprise, the cave was inhabited by daemons.

Dino'd been put off by the idea of going into a cave – that seemed like asking for trouble, not to mention claustrophobia – but Ignis said, with cheerful ruthlessness, that caves were simply a different form of terrain he'd need to get used to if he intended to source all his own gemstones from now on.

They reached the haven in under two hours without incident, thanks to the daemon-repelling lights Coctura had attached to the roof and Dino's ability not to panic and drive off the road when he saw an iron giant lumbering toward them dragging a sword _that was on fire_. Ignis said the car would be fine left at the side of the road downhill from the haven – daemons were interested in living creatures, not inanimate objects.

With that comforting thought rattling around his skull, Dino was grateful when they had clambered up the hillside and arrived within the protective glow from the haven's sigils. Someone in ancient times had made them by embedding crystals in the ground, and they gave off such an aura of comfort that he announced he'd be fine not ever leaving.

Ignis didn't even look over from where he was setting out piles of camping stuff, the tent and some chairs and a collapsible cook station. "We'll likely be tired when we return," he said. "It's best to make camp before we venture forth. Daemons can't enter the haven, and I'm not worried about thieves." He did turn his head toward Dino then, the black lenses of his glasses glinting. "You can hex them."

Dino spluttered, just like Ignis had known he would. "How many times I got to tell you, I'm a jeweler, not a witch? The magic doesn't work like that any more than you can just think real hard and make the tent assemble itself."

"Alas," Ignis said, his expression wry.

And just like that Dino remembered again that Ignis was still getting used to doing things while blind – it hadn't even been a year. He'd camped out a lot in Niflheim, he'd said, so the process was familiar, but he still needed to map the locations of all the bits in his head. And gods forbid he dropped something, he'd have to feel along the ground for it, and Dino knew he hated doing that, so he'd end up frustrated and irritated. Considering Dino's life was in his hands, that wasn't really ideal. Plus he liked Ignis, and didn't want him to suffer alone with the Infernian tent frame.

"Let me give you a hand," he offered. Ignis looked dubious, but he didn't refuse.

Once the tent was up and they'd had a basic lunch, Ignis rolled his shoulders back and announced that they might as well head to the cave now. "We needn't wait until nightfall to explore," he said. "Which I suppose is advantageous."

"Sure," Dino said, trying to sound like the idea didn't freak him out now that they were actually here. "Why not?"

He got out his map and compass and made an educated guess as to which direction they should head, and lead the way out of safety, into the darkness. He hadn't wanted to bring it up earlier, but he had serious doubts about the terrain. He could see and still had trouble maneuvering through the rocks and shrubs, but Ignis had to feel out the space in front of him with his stick. He still stumbled, or got smacked in the face with branches.

He just... soldiered on, not complaining or asking for help. Not that Dino'd be as useful as Gladio or Prompto. He wasn't in any position to say _It'll be fine_ or _There's nothing to worry about_. What did he know? Ignis was the expert – he'd been here before, after all – and it had to be killing him that he was missing vital visual clues.

"What's to our right?" Ignis asked, reaching out his free hand to catch at Dino's jacket. "There's a distinct cooler breeze."

Dino couldn't see past the clump of trees in that direction, but he grabbed Ignis' hand and headed over to check it out. Behind the trees the ground was bare, part of a trail that would have been so much easier to take than their trek through the underbrush. If only it had been on the map, he lamented. And the mapmakers could have added the cave as well, because there it was, he told Ignis, just a few meters past the trail, an inky hole into the hillside.

His skin prickled like hundreds of daemon eyes were watching him, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from calling the whole quest off and fleeing back to the safety of camp. Ignis was just a boy from the big city, he told himself, and _he_ wasn't scared. Perhaps. Dino wasn't about to ask.

He half-hoped that once he'd led Ignis into the cave some kind of instinct would kick in and Ignis could take the lead, but he hadn't counted on stalagmites and stalactites that needed to be ducked under or skirted around as they wound down an ever-narrowing passage, looking for _the second room on the right_. Assuming room meant cavern, Dino pulled Ignis into the second one they encountered. He was just on the verge of congratulating himself at his spelunking expertise when Ignis tugged sharply on his hand, pulling him to a stop and then letting him go to conjure a lance.

Through clean living and a health dose of survival instinct-slash-cowardice, Dino had never been within breathing distance of a daemon. If given a choice he'd have preferred to take that innocence to his grave, but suddenly dark shapes were forming in the shadows and unfolding from the stone, all around them.

He hadn't known daemons stank, but they did, like burned and rotting meat, hot and wrong. He gagged, trying not to breathe through his nose, and in that moment Ignis slipped in front of him, assuming a defensive crouch.

And _shit-fuck-damn_ Dino was supposed to be his eyes. Prompto had stressed this, over and over, impressing on him what a great responsibility it was. He'd been shown hundreds of pictures of daemons while Prompto quizzed him on their abilities and weaknesses.

"Goblins?" he said, trying to get a good look at them. "Or imps – wait, no tails."

"Hobgoblins," Ignis corrected, head cocked like he was trying to hear their movements. "Aim for the chest."

Right, he had a gun, and it wasn't doing anyone any good on his hip. Time to step up and do his bit. "There are five of them."

He slid the safety off, hearing in his head all Prompto's instructions. He remembered at the last second to tell Ignis he was going to fire, so he didn't deafen him as well, and then _bam_. More of a hit to the inhumanly massive shoulder than the chest, and he tried to correct his aim with the next shot. The daemon didn't bleed, which was unnerving, so he shot it until it dissolved, his head ringing from the echoes of gunshots. He felt detached, like he was playing a video game, almost, except there Ignis went, darting forward to stab, then withdraw, and then swing his blade around again, and then banish it in a blink to toss a pair of daggers with an elegantly deadly spin.

"Two left," he reported, with a thrill of adrenaline-fuelled exuberance. Ignis was already flinging his daggers at another target, and Dino hurried to at least wound the remaining hobgoblins before Ignis got them all, like some whirling cyclone of death.

"You never told me how smoking hot you were in a fight," Dino said when they were all dead.

Ignis, panting, with sweat at his hairline and a dagger in his hand, smiled archly. "I assumed you knew."

Fair. Dino'd have to develop an Ignis hotness scale, like there was for Lestallum cuisine. He was so turned on he had trouble seeing straight, and he certainly wasn't thinking straight in either sense of the word. He ran his hands down Ignis' chest and let his fingers slide under his waistband, tugging his hips forward. He was dimly aware of Ignis banishing his dagger, which he approved of; all of the things he wanted would be sidelined if he got stabbed.

"Many people feel arousal as a response to the dangers of life-threatening experiences," Ignis said, as if he were trying to give Dino a polite excuse.

"A literal _thank fuck we're alive_ ," Dino suggested, pressing his thigh between Ignis' legs and grinning when he encountered the hard evidence that he wasn't alone. "Good thing we can do something about it." He pushed, walking Ignis backwards toward the wall and incidentally rubbing his dick with each step.

"In a daemon-infested cave."

"I'll be quick." He reached around Ignis to catch him so he didn't hit the stone, and took advantage of the intimacy to steal a string of kisses as he turned them around. "There, I'll keep a lookout, you keep an ear peeled and –" he got to work on their zippers "– just let me make you feel good."

The air in the cavern felt cold against the hypersensitive skin of his cock when he got it freed, but just a bit of fumbling later and he had Ignis' hot length pressed up against his own. Ignis reached down, their hands working together to find a frantic synchronicity. Dino let himself babble – yet another reaction to terror and danger – telling Ignis how perfect he was, how good he felt in his arms, how glad he was that he was here, how he was going to take good care of him because he was precious.

" _Oh_ ," Ignis breathed out, like he was startled, and a moment later he buried his face in Dino's shoulder, shaking in silent release.

After that it didn't take much for Dino to follow, especially with Ignis nibbling at his neck and his grip slick and fast now.

Despite his promise to keep watch, his head rolled back with the effort it took not to shout, and with each ragged breath his flashlight flitted around the room. He thought he was seeing stars from the force of the orgasm racing along his nerves and up his spine, but as he came down from his high the glittering constellations and galaxies were still there.

"I think we found treasure," he told Ignis, who'd tugged a handkerchief from his pocket and was attempting to clean them up, oblivious to the beauty all around them – crystals of every color of the rainbow emerging from the walls and ceiling, like the gods themselves had created this place as some kind of temple.

Ignis' hands were steady and gentle, but he trailed kisses along Dino's jawline as if he was as glad of Dino's presence there, in the daemon-haunted darkness, as Dino was of his. "You're my treasure," Ignis said, plainly, as if ridiculously unaware of how endearing that was.

Dino had to kiss him for that to keep things from getting out of hand. He hoped Ignis couldn't feel how hard he was blushing.

They had a good partnership, Dino thought. He hoped Ignis would stick around for as long as he could. Not just for the business opportunities, or even the sex. Embarrassing as it was to admit, he liked the companionship. King Noctis was a lucky man, and Dino knew he was just borrowing Ignis from him for the time being. He'd do his best to return the Royal Advisor in proper working order, but well... he'd miss him like hell when that time came.

If he played his cards right, maybe Ignis would show up in Galdin Quay after the Scourge was banished and the sun rose again, knock at Dino's door, and Dino'd welcome him home. They could reminisce about what a great team they'd made – all the daemons they'd killed and the treasures they'd brought home in victory. There'd probably be plenty of opportunities for people willing to hustle and work hard. And people always needed jewelry.

 _Maybe_ , he thought, and turned his head to deepen the kiss, sliding a hand into Ignis' hair to angle his head for the perfect fit. _It might work out._ He was optimistic, here with Ignis in his arms and his eyes on that jewel-bright future waiting for them.


End file.
